71st Annual Hunger Games
by beadlebug3
Summary: Seventeen year old Ebony Raine from District Three is reaped into the 71st Annual Hunger Games.
1. District List

(9 AM) District one: Luxury

Cashmere Glory 15

Troy Gold 17

(9:30 AM) District two: Masonry

Jenna Harold 18

Damien Travesty 16

**(10 AM) District three: Electronics**

**Ebony Raine 17**

**Zane Crutch 18**

(10:30 AM) District four: Fishing

Sabrina White 13

Gareth Shepherd 16

(11 AM) District five: Power

Keegan Reele 14

Emmet Greene 17

(11:30 AM) District six: Transportation

Keely Ross 15

Lex Fir 14

(12 PM) District seven: Lumber

Oakley Yates 17

Elwood Drover 13

(12:30 PM) District eight: Textiles

Tai Lots 12

Kyden Kris 15

(1 PM) District nine: Grain

Priella Donner 15

Bond Writs 18

(1:30 PM) District ten: Livestock

Winnie Bell 14

Spencer Trive 16

(2 PM) District eleven: Agriculture

Maelie Cleave 16

Hamlet James 12

(2:30 PM) District twelve: Mining

Aderyn Isis 17

Coleman Rites 17


	2. Reaping Day

I watched the sun rise over the tall apartment complexes of my district, the factory smokestacks still in the distance. Looking down, the streets are empty and there are no sounds other than the powerful winds billowing through the district.

My entire family sleeps on as the sky turns from a bright pink to a light blue, few clouds hanging in the air.

_At least the day will be a beautiful one._

I don't bother dressing yet, we don't have to be in the square until later in the morning, and I sit back down at my desk to tinker with the latest Capitol toy. It didn't take long for me to figure out how it works, or even how to make it more efficient. But the monthly convention for new technology was still weeks away, so I put the modifications away in a drawer and sat silently thinking about the day to come.

It was the day of the reaping, a time of mourning for my family. If it wasn't required of them to be at the reaping, I'm sure both of my parents would stay at home and sleep the entire "celebration" away.

I'm surprised to find both of my parents awake and sipping slowly at their bland coffee when I exit my bedroom.

"Good morning, mom, dad." I kiss them each on the cheek watching them carefully. My mother smiles softly and my father rubs my back before I take a slice of bread and cheese from the table and leaning against the wall chewing slowly.

"Your brother is showering now, you should get in there once he finishes and I'll lay a clean outfit out for you on your bed."

I nod and my mother smiles again before looking down at the table. My father takes hold of her hand, trying to stay strong for all of us. I can see his hands shake slightly, and his eyes are sad behind his scratched glasses.

I can't see my parents cry, not today. I excuse myself from the room and finish my breakfast outside the bathroom door waiting for my younger brother. It's his second reaping year and anxieties are high within the house. This is my older brother's first year as being non-eligible for the games and while he can finally relax about not being chosen any longer, he still worries about my brother and I.

The shower's been off for ten minutes when my brother emerges from the steam filled bathroom. His eyes are red and his dark hair is sticking up on ends.

"Oh, Eb you scared me… I was just- I mean-"

I don't let him finish before wrapping him up in a hug and letting him bury his face in my shirt. He cries silently, shaking in my arms.

"You're not going to get picked, Dean. There are so many names in that bowl and yours is only in there twice. You're safe from their games, you'll go home after the reaping and be able to relax for a whole year." I rock him in my arms and feel him nod. He sniffs and squeezes me one last time before running into his bedroom and shutting the door.

I stand watching his door for a few minutes before walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower. As I step under the stream of water, I wonder what it is like in the Capitol where it is rumored that their showers have hundreds of buttons, each a different setting. Or what it would be like to live in a district without running water. This is the one time a year we can see what it is really like in the other districts, and whether or not the rumors are true. Districts one, two, and four are usually the way we've pictured them: plentiful, rich, power-hungry. You can see the blood-thirst in their eyes as they walk powerfully to the podium and enunciate every syllable of their name clearly so the whole country of Panem knows that they will be the winners. The Careers, they're called. The six strongest of the Games, the ones that train their entire lives for the chance of the fame and glory that winning brings. The six that have no intention of dying.

Districts five and six are the most like mine, District three. Well off, but not glorified. Districts seven, eight, and nine are somewhat like us, but they seem to be in more poverty. From the looks of the citizens, they have running water, but no showers. Their hair is often too clean, an unnatural clean that shows they spent an hour scrubbing away at the dirt and grime that rests in their skin and under their nails.

The last three—Districts ten, eleven, and twelve—are the worst. Often they don't make much of an effort to look presentable. Younger children who are not yet eligible are dirty, cowering behind parents. Those who are eligible for the reaping look as if they were rubbed raw to get the dirt off of their bodies, but it didn't work.

I feel sorry for these districts, that they suffer so much and receive so little for their work. They look hungry and defeated. It's rare there is a champion from one of these districts. They're not strong enough to fight off the Careers.

I'm lost in my thoughts when there is a knock on the door.

"Ebony? Are you alright?" I turn off the shower and wrap a towel around me calling a shaky yes out to my older brother. I open the door and push passed him, seeing the concern in his eyes. I turn around halfway to my bedroom and see him still watching me in his ratty nightclothes.

"I'm ok, Chris. I promise." I give him a half-hearted smile and hurry to my bedroom to change. It's already nine, and Districts one and two would be beginning their reapings now. We'll be able to watch all of the replays back at home once Districts eleven and twelve are on their way to the Capitol.

Home. When I get back home. It's my second to last year, and then I'll be free. I will not be picked; I will not go to the Games. I'll make it out without ever seeing the Capitol or participating in the bloodbath. I'll become an engineer. I'll be safe. These are my last two years. I can do this.

Taking deep breaths I face my bed and see the simple blue-grey dress my mom has laid out for me. It's nothing fancy, just enough to look presentable for this horrid event. The straps are thin, and it hangs just above my knees. I braid my dark, damp hair simply down my back once I'm dressed and slip on the short black heels my mother left next to the end of my bed. I look at myself in the mirror and smooth my bangs. Tears fill my eyes as I spot the picture of all of my brothers and I that I keep in the corner of my mirror. We were so little when it was taken, back when the Games didn't turn us from four to three.

My eldest brother, Kurt, was killed in the Games when he was only fourteen. Chris was eleven at the time, and I was nine. We watched from the sidelines with our parents as our big brother walked powerful and strong up to the podium to take his place next to the girls' tribute, a tall and scrawny sixteen year old. We watched him die by the hand of a Career on the fifth day. Dean was only five and barely remembers Kurt, and my parents forbade him to ever watch the footage of the Games.

I remember trying to run up to him with Chris as our father held us back. Kurt held his head high and did well not letting his fear show. When we were allowed to see him in Town Hall, the six of us held each other for as long as we were allowed before Peacekeepers pulled us all away from him.

We suspected it would be the last time we'd see him, but as we watched him fight and survive the Games, we gained hope that we'd be able to see him in person once again. But then one bloodthirsty Career snatched that hope away from us. It was almost impossible for my mother to continue watching. She spent most days in bed. Our father became somewhat of a zombie, living every day in a rut. Us three kids remaining stood together, keeping one another safe. Eventually our parents snapped out of it, but every reaping day gets harder and harder, especially with two of their children still eligible.

The previous year was the hardest on us, with it being Dean's first year and Chris' last. All three of us were eligible and I remember leaving the apartment watching my mother sob on the floor, my father barely able to hold her up. We were all a mess that year, but so relieved when all three of us returned back home that afternoon.

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and head out the door. Dean and Chris are waiting for me by the door. Our parents plan on meeting us down there.

Dean looks pale and completely terrified of what is to come. The second I get close enough he grabs ahold of my hand and I squeeze it, smiling at him. Chris nods once and the three of us walk slowly out of our apartment, out of the building, and into the sunlight.


	3. May the Odds be Ever in Your Favor

We arrived in the square at a quarter to ten. Peacekeepers stood at the entrance finger-pricking the newcomers before they took their spots. Chris and I held out our fingers and waited as Dean shook where he stood. The Peacekeeper scowled and pushed him away once he was done with him. Chris ran up and caught him before he fell into the throng of people and helped him walk away from the entrance. Before he ran off with some other boys from school, Chris and I took turns giving him long hugs.

"Only two slips, Dean. Remember that." He nodded and I kissed him on the forehead, holding him close one last time. After hugging Chris, he ran off and found a chair next to the other thirteen-year-old boys from school.

I walk over to the girls' side with Chris and stand just outside of the seventeen-year-old section. He looks at me and smiles softly.

"You're almost out, Eb. You're so close to being done with this whole mess." He hugs me tight and I bury my face into his shoulder, trying hard not to cry. "We just need to get through the next half hour or so and we'll be done for a whole year. No more anxiety, no more being scared…" He whispers to me and rubs my back. I just nod into his shoulder and pull away when I hear the deafening screech of the microphone being turned on. Chris salutes and jogs to the non-eligible section while I take my seat in the seventeen-year-old girls section.

"Is this thing on? It's working? Ok." Our mayor taps the microphone and stands straight, tugging on his jacket. "Welcome, to the beginning of the seventy-first Hunger Games!" He says this enthusiastically, but on camera you can see his smile is forced and his voice shakes a little from the strain. "As usual, let us begin with the history of Panem, and how these historic Games came to be."

A video clip comes onto the large screens in the square explaining the reason for the Hunger Games, and what the country of the United States of America was before the Dark Days and the rebellion. Having been watching the video since I was born, I zone out quickly and don't begin listening again until the mayor taps the microphone once more. "Ahem. And now District three's very own escort, Courtney Spark, will once again pick the tributes for this years Hunger Games."

He steps down and Courtney walks slowly to the microphone and speaks loudly. "Welcome, welcome! I am so happy to be here once again, escorting one man and woman to my home, the Capitol, to participate in the seventy-first annual Hunger Games!" Courtney's ridiculous Capitol accent rang louder and squeakier than ever. It looked like this year she was going to attempt to be District three's own personal sun, with a bring yellow—almost white—wig, and spray-tanned skin. On the television, you could see her eyes were a bright orange, and her eyelashes seemed to me made out of orange and black butterfly wings. She was wearing a yellow sundress that was well above her knees. There appeared to be no sleeves, and it was cinched tightly at her small Capitol waist making the bottom poof out farther than need be. She wore a small white sweater, and her shoes were also white, the heel being at least ten inches tall, forcing her to tower over the majority of the district. Because of her added height and Capitol stupidity, she could not adjust the microphone and was forced to bend forward so we'd be able to hear her shrilly voice. Her entire appearance made her appear comical and clown-like.

"I can see you are all just as excited as I am to get these games started. Maybe this year we'll have a victor!" She is greeted with silence. Many of the younger kids are squirming impatiently, eager to go back inside and sleep the rest of this miserable day away.

Courtney frowns and clears her throat. "As tradition states, ladies first." She hobbles over to the glass bowl containing every female name in the District from ages 12 to 18 and swirls her clawed hand over the slips of paper. She reaches in and snatches a slip from deep in the bowl, and hobbles back towards the microphone. Dramatically, she eyes the crowd and opens the small slip.

"And our lucky female tribute is… Ebony Raine." Courtney claps loudly for the entire district while everyone turns and looks at me. I'm too shocked to move out of my seat. "Oh Ebony, where are you?" Courtney practically sings. A girl in my grade elbows me sharply in the side and looks at me with sorry eyes. I stand tall and walk towards the podium. I don't dare look towards the thirteen year old boys, where I'm sure to see Dean crying or mentally begging for me to run. I just keep walking, staring straight ahead at Courtney's clown-like face. I think I hear Chris screaming my name, but I don't dare turn around. "Here she is. Raine, Raine, I remember that last name. Did you have a family member in a previous Games?"

My voice catches in my throat. I stand there and nod slowly, battling the tears as the memories of my brother begin to surface for the second time today.

"If I'm remembering correctly, he was in the sixty-fourth games?" She looks at me for encouragement.

I swallow the tears and glare at her, saying, "the sixty-third Games. My brother Kurt."

Courtney ignores my venomous tone. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Ebony. Well let us hope that this year, the odds are in your favor." Her voice rings sugary sweet through the square. "Onto the male tribute, shall we?"

She puts on a small show once more, dramatically plucking a single slip from the males glass bowl.

"Ahem. Our male tribute is… Dean Raine! Oh, another family member, I believe? Well it looks like the odds are most certainly not in your favor." She laughs half-heartedly at her cruel joke and looks awkwardly away from me. I feel as if I'm on the verge of a breakdown.

_There must be some mistake. This can't be happening, I cannot go against my baby brother._

I don't see him stand, but I spot him easily in the crowd, his black hair spiking at odd angles from drying in the sunlight, his eyes filling with tears. And suddenly he wipes his nose on his sleeve and stands.

"Come on up here, dear. Let us all see who you are." Dean walks over the legs of his friends and enters the middle aisle. He takes two steps forward, and before I knew what I'm doing, I'm screaming, "run, Dean, run! Get away from here, run!" Without a second of hesitation, he begins sprinting in the opposite direction towards Chris and the non-eligible.

"Please, you have to pick again. He cannot be in the Games, he can't!" I stand there begging Courtney and watching Dean struggle against Peacekeepers out of the corner of my eye. Three of them are holding back Chris, and my mother has collapsed on the ground, sobbing with my father and neighbors trying to support her. I can barely hear the words come out of my mouth as I scream at Courtney to pick another name, to pick someone other than my baby brother. Peacekeepers carry my struggling brother towards the stage, and the entire square is in chaos, yelling and screaming for something to be done. The district is in an uproar, and Peacekeepers are moving in on the eligible tributes as they stand and protest. But one voice rings out over everyone else's that forces the crowd to grow quiet.

Peacekeepers stop advancing and my brothers stop struggling. A single boy from the eighteen year olds section advances the stage.

"I said, I volunteer as the District three male tribute for the seventy-first Hunger Games."


	4. Final Goodbyes

"Well, what great, great news! What is your name, dear?" Courtney smiles widely, glad for a solution to the issue she was not trained to solve.

"Zane Crutch." He stands next to me, but doesn't look my way. I felt like I knew him, but I had no idea where. He was taller than me, strongly built, unlike many in this district. _He must work in one of the factories._ I watch him carefully, unsure of how to approach the matter as Courtney Spark babbled on. His deep blue eyes were trained on the crowd, and it was difficult to read any sort of emotion from them.

"And now tributes, you may shake hands, and will be escorted into the Town Hall. May the odds be ever in your favor." Courtney eyes us encouragingly, and Zane smiles slightly as he shakes my hand, but then quickly changes back to being expressionless once more. The change in emotion was too quick for any of the cameras to catch, and as we were escorted into separate rooms in Town Hall, I was left wondering why he was willing to risk his own life for my brother's.

Scanning the room I was sent to, I sit on the couch and feel the soft, worn velvet under my legs as my feet tap impatiently. I remember this part, but I never thought I'd be sitting on the other side of the door, waiting for the Peacekeepers to escort my brothers and parents in to say their goodbyes.

I begin to pace, unsure of when they'll exactly allow my family to see me. It didn't feel like I had been waiting this long to see Kurt eight years ago.

Finally, a Peacekeeper opens the door and my parents come running inside.

"You have three minutes," he says, and shuts the door as my parents crush me under their arms and drown me in fresh tears.

The three of us collapse onto the velvet couch and none of us say a word. My father repeatedly kisses my forehead with his glasses practically falling off his nose. The only sounds in the room are my mother's sobs as she strokes my hair.

A Peacekeeper comes too soon and tries to usher my parents out. My mother hangs onto me and sobs louder, making it harder for me to keep my tears inside. A Peacekeeper pulls her off of me as she yells my name. Before my father is dragged out, he hugs me one last time, and whispers in my ear, "I'm so proud of you, baby girl. If I could, I'd bet every cent we have on you. We'll all be rooting for you." I tear up as he is dragged out of the room by a Peacekeeper and the door shuts behind them.

I fall to my knees on the floor and stare at the closed doors. All emotion is gone as I slowly begin to realize that I may never see my parents again. That the last memory I'll ever have of my mother is tears streaming down her face, her black hair mixing with the few grey strands as they fall onto her cheeks and out of her bun.

No tears fall, and I am numb. It feels like a century before the Peacekeeper reenters with Dean. He sobs as much as my mother and hangs onto my neck whispering how sorry he is and how he wished he could have stopped me and how scared he was that he'd have to go against me. His thoughts spill out a mile a minute as I rock him back and forth, rubbing his back and listening to every word.

"Ebby don't go. Don't go don't go don't go I can't let you go!" He screams at me, his blue-eyed gaze holding mine. He shakes and digs his dull nails into my shoulders. I barely feel the pain. "When you told me to run I did, I did what you said I couldn't hurt you Ebby, you gotta run they'll find someone else they can't take you away!"

His nose begins to run and he sniffs loudly, wiping it on his sleeve. He babbles and carries on the Peacekeeper comes back and pulls him out of the room, our three minutes up. He screams and kicks and I get a brief view of my father holding him back before the door is shut once more.

I sit back against the couch, now terrified that my baby brother could watch me die on the television screen. My parents will lose another child if I don't try my hardest to win. I hug my knees to my chest, digging my nails into my knees. I leave little pink half moons in my skin and hope that wherever the arena is, wherever we'll be staying, I'll have a view of the sky.

The Peacekeeper enters one last time with Chris in tow. Unlike my other family members, he has shed no tears, and comes and sits next to me against he couch. He sighs loudly and grabs hold of my hand, his finger entwining with mine.

"I feel like I cried myself out eight years ago when Kurt was in the games. I was terrified of losing my older brother and being responsible for you and Dean without any guidance. He was so much older than us, and had so much more experience. And now look at what has happened with me in control. Both of you were reaped in one day, and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

"Chris, this isn't your fault. The Capitol, it's all a game it's all chance…"

He sighs again. "I know, but I vowed I'd protect you and now that you're leaving, I can't. I can only watch. You're strong Eb. And you're smart. You'll come home."

"What makes me any different from Kurt? He had the highest marks of any of us, and he was physically stronger even at such a young age. What gives me more of a chance to win?"

"He didn't have a token." Chris shushes me before I say anything. "You know how superstitious I am. Some people in the games are lucky enough to have a token from their district. Kurt didn't bring anything from home. You on the other hand, will."

He pulls a silver chain from his pocket. There's a small, beat up iron gear on the end of it. "Because you've always held us together. And you always will." He unclasps the chain and clasps it around my neck, letting the gear rest just below the line of my dress. I'm speechless and just sit there fingering the outline of the small gear. "I found it in the factory one day. It was just sitting there, lying on the ground. There was nothing in the area it connected to, so I pocketed it. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but when you got reaped I ran home and got it. That's why I was so late to see you."

I hug him tight as the Peacekeeper comes to take my brother away.

"I love you, Eb. You're better than those Careers. I'll see you when you get home."

"I'll see you then, Chris…" And the door slams behind him leaving me alone one again.

My token is warm to the touch, and I hold it close to my heart as Peacekeepers usher me from town hall and onto the train to the Capitol.


	5. Meet the Tributes

While we are not right on top of the Capitol, District three is not the farthest away either. Right as we get on board we're told it should take us about a day and a half to arrive at the Capitol. Before I'm allowed to even get a glimpse of where I'll be living for that time, I'm pushed into a room that seemed too large to exists on the train, and I'm told that this is where I'll be sleeping tonight and the next before we make our first appearance.

The room is simple, just a bed and a wall dresser with small windows that let in enough light to see by. There is a note resting on my pillow, instructing me to change into some decent clothes and join my escort and mentors for lunch once I'm settled.

I read the note again and wonder where I would get a change of clothes. I wasn't allowed to bring anything with me other than what I was already wearing. Then it dawns on me to actually check the dresser drawers. Digging through the millions of dresses, I finally emerge with a pair of pants and a too-big sweater that falls almost to my knees. Digging further into the drawers, I find a pair of boots that fit almost perfectly.

There's a mirror above the bed, and I slowly redo my hair and pin it up into a bun, eager to push leaving my cabin as long as I can. I'm not ready to face the reality of the situation. I'm not ready to see Zane or ask why he would risk his own life for my brother's.

Tears threaten the surface once more, but I push them back down, remembering what Chris told me.

_I am strong. I am strong. I will not let this destroy me. I will be brave. I will be strong._

For what feels like hours I stare at my reflection, taking in every last detail before I am plucked and pampered by the Capitol stylists.

My figure will remain the same—average height, a bit scrawny, but strong—but everything else about me may change. My long eyelashes sheltering my sea blue eyes will be covered in makeup, and my thin pink lips will be plumped to perfection so as to please the crowd. It's possible they'll cut my long black hair. I'll be waxed, sprayed, painted on, dressed up, and tortured in every legal sense of the word just to make me look pretty.

_Just to make them like me._

I had seen it happen every year. The year my brother was reaped, he was almost unrecognizable. They had forced his hair to settle in a way that was not natural in any world. They altered his face with so much makeup it was almost criminal. My mother nearly fainted. When it came time for the games to actually begin, we saw more of the Kurt we had all grown up with. Except he was almost always covered in dirt and blood. We had lost track of where his blood ended and another tribute's began. That year had been a particularly bad one for bloodbaths. A number of tributes died by bleeding out after escaping the vicious murder done by the Careers. They would hide away somewhere and beg for death. Kurt was caught in a bloodbath, and the Career who had killed him decided to have mercy and ended it quickly. He was dead within minutes.

I shuddered at the memory, remembering the sound of the cannon that announced him dead. I didn't want to think about what would happen to my family if one of those cannons went off for me.

I finally decide that I can't put off this meeting forever, and exit my cabin. The sun is still relatively high, and I wonder if Districts eleven and twelve have had their reapings yet.

It's only when I begin walking down the long hall that contains my room and various other doors that I realize I have no idea which way to go. I turn back around and start looking at each door, trying to spot a clue that will show which way leads to where we will be eating. Each door has a nameplate on it that says mentor, escort, tribute boy, or tribute girl on it. I assume these are where each one of us will be sleeping and keep walking until I reach the door that says tribute boy. I stop and stand outside the door, barely feeling the slight rock of the train. Bracing myself against the movement, I debate whether or not I should take a peak inside, if I should thank him, or just be on my way. Before I can even decide however, the door slides open and Zane saunters out in an outfit similar to mine. He sees me and gives me a slightly cocky grin.

"Ready to face them?"

I play with the sleeve of my sweater and gather a handful in a fist. I grit my teeth and nod. "Do you have any idea where we have to go?" I ask him.

"Not a clue." He smiles again and leads the way passed my room. My cheeks burn when his back is turned and I follow close behind so as not to get lost. It was only now that all of the chaos of the reaping was over that I noticed how much taller he was than I. He doesn't tower over me, but the top of my head barely grazes the bottom his chin.

I bite my lip as my cheeks burn a brighter red, and he cocks his head slightly back at me. "I'm not losing you already, am I?"

Without thinking I clear my throat and squeak out a quiet, "No."

He chuckles under his breath and we keep walking towards an unknown destination. We finally come to a door at the end of the hall with a small window, and see Courtney Spark sitting alone at a large wooden table set for five.

"Ah, my courageous boy and pretty girl, come and join me! We can watch the other tributes' reapings while we eat. As soon as your mentors arrive that is."

I'm pretty sure the scowl on my face was identical to Zane's as we sat next to each other as instructed by our bubbly escort.

Our moods quickly changed once we saw the enormous platter laid out in front of us. There was every kind of fruit I had ever heard of, plus more. People I could only assume were Avoxes stood silently in the corners, balancing different types of soup, chowder, meat platters, salad dishes, any food you could think of, in their hands. Courtney only had to snap her fingers, and a small cluster would move forward and present what they were holding to her and us. I didn't know what to choose first, and Zane was just as dumbfounded as I was.

"Well dig in, dig in! There's no reason to wait for those silly mentors. I'm sure you're starving. I know I am." Courtney gestures with her hands to choose something, and despite her comment, she only takes a small bit of salad and orders an Avox to slice up one of the juicy apples on the table.

Zane is the first of the two of us to jump right in. He takes slices of chicken and a side of clam chowder and has filled up his plate before I can even dish out one serving of tomato soup. He digs right into his meal, moaning quietly between each bite. Cautiously, I take a spoonful of my soup and sip slowly. A small groan slips passed my lips and I dig in just as quickly as Zane. The food was rich and filling, and the soup slid gently down my throat. Courtney smiled at the head of the table. "It's always curious watching the tributes eat. They seem to think it is so much tastier than any other food they may get at home." She sips at her wine and shrugs her shoulders. While her comment doesn't completely escape my notice, it seems as though it went over Zane's head. He barely stops eating to take a single breath, let alone correct Courtney.

She continues sipping at her wine and picking at her food, her bright yellow hair bobbing back and forth every time she moves her head. Other than her few thoughtless comments, the meal is silent, and in a few minutes both Zane and I are sitting back in our seats holding our stomachs, having taken at least one bite of everything there was to offer.

As soon as I close my eyes, I hear the door open and shut and feet scuffling inside. I take a peek through one eye and see two people shuffle inside and sit behind Courtney on the couch.

"There you two are! You will be no help to this year's tributes if you hide from them! Zane, Ebony, these are your mentors. Beetee, Wiress, these are this years tributes for District three."

I open my eyes to see two small figures cowering together on the couch. They both have the pale, ashen skin that is seen quite often in adults in District three, and dark black hair. The man sits up straight, his wire glasses practically falling off of his face in the process. "Hello. I am Beetee, and this is Wiress." He gives a warm smile towards Zane and I. "We'll be your mentors for the duration of the Games. We're sorry this has happened to you two."

Courtney glares at him and stands up awkwardly before settling on the couch opposite the two. Wiress has yet to say a word, but keeps toying with a small device in her lap. Although Beetee looks much older, they could easily be mistaken for twins.

"It's a, nice to meet you. Thanks for being here to support us," Zane says. He sits up straight and watches the two twitter together on the couch, and Courtney click her tongue at the pair.

"Well, I think it's time to watch the other tributes, don't you?" She reaches for the remote and turns on the giant television set. "Come on you two, don't dawdle, join us!"

I sluggishly walk over to the remaining couch and collapse into the soft pillows. Zane sits next to me and we turn our attention to Ceasar Flickerman who is introducing the games as he always does.

"Everyone shh, shush, pay attention, this is important!" Courtney screeches at us, despite the already silent room.

Ceasar opens the program by interviewing the head Gamemaker like he does every year. And like every year, he says we must wait to see what the arena will look like. The crowd goes wild in anticipation, and after they calm down, Ceasar turns to the giant screen behind him to show the reapings.

District one is first, in all of it's shining glory. The people and area are sparkling and golden. Even the District one escort is dazzling in all gold, and speaks proudly of her victorious district. She makes even more of a show about choosing the tributes than Courtney did, and as the camera pans to the crowd, many of the eligible are sitting on the edge of their seats.

"Cashmere Glory!" The escorts voice rings loud and clear through the district, and a small blonde bounces up towards the stage. The camera zooms in on her face, and she appears to be too happy to be chosen. Her green eyes are staring directly at us through the camera as if she was already on her victory tour.

Zane snorts with disgust beside me and crosses his arms. I hug my knees to my chest.

Cashmere stands next to the glowing escort as she pulls the male tributes name from the bowl. Before the boy even stands, a large, strong looking Career stands and shouts, "I volunteer!" He stares ahead confidently and saunters over to the stage. He states his name as Troy Gold and takes his place next to Cashmere. Both look ready to win.

The television cuts to District two, who seem to stand even prouder than District one. The female tribute, Jenna Harold, volunteers before the escort has his hand out of the reaping ball. She smiles maniacally as she marches to the stage. The male tribute, Damien Travesty, also volunteers. Both appear to be strong and ready to kill anyone who gets in their path.

And then it is time for District three. Courtney shushes us once more, so excited to see herself on the television, while Zane looks repulsed and closes his eyes. I curl into a tighter ball as Courtney pulls my name from the bowl and I stand and walk slowly to the stage. Our awkward encounter about Kurt was caught on camera, and I'm surprised at the amount of hatred and venom I see in my gaze.

When Dean's name was pulled, I almost burst into a fresh set of tears. I see him struggling against the Peacekeepers once more, and can hear my cracking voice in the background, begging.

And then there is Zane's voice, and he is calling up to the stage that he volunteers. The Zane sitting next to me barely bats an eye and I'm almost convinced he's fallen asleep until I see him flinch at the sound of Courtney's voice announcing, "May the odds be ever in your favor." Clearly the odds are in neither of our favors.

District four was much like Districts one and two. The female tribute—who couldn't have been older than thirteen—was called, and the male volunteered after a small looking twelve year old was reaped. Their tributes, Sabrina White and Gareth Shepherd, looked as though they could have been related, with their strong posture and same bronze colored hair and tanned skin. Like most of District three, their eyes were a sea green-blue, and they stood intensely staring into the cameras. Their mentor, Finnick Odair, was cockily standing in the background, chatting with the escort as the camera cut to District five.

The District five tributes were Keegan Reele and Emmet Greene, who both looked terrified to be chosen, like any normal citizen in Panem. District six's tributes Keely Ross and Lex Fir looked the same exact way.

District seven's two tributes, Oakley Yates and Elwood Drover, both looked strong and powerful, but not in the same way as the Careers did. The Careers trained for the Games, while District seven's supply was lumber. The girl, Oakley, looked as though she had worked with an ax her entire life. The boy, Elwood, was much smaller, but still had arms that would make a grown man proud.

District eight looked sullen and frightened. The female tribute, Tai Lots, looked too small to even be eligible, let alone to be able to survive. The male, Kyden Kris, just looked exhausted and on the verge of collapse.

The District nine tributes, Priella Donner and Bond Writs, looked strong in the same sense District seven looked strong. They would be able to hold their own.

Winnie Bell and Spencer Trive of District ten looked as though they knew this moment was coming, that they knew they had been chosen. By the look of the large, sobbing families in the background, both tributes must have had to take out a lot of tesserae to support them.

District eleven stood erect and well controlled, as it had been rumored. Their tributes, Maelie Cleave and Hamlet James, were an odd pair, with Hamlet being so much smaller, but they stood on the stage as any other District had.

Finally, District twelve came on screen. Watching in the past, it always depressed me seeing the small children covered in soot from the coalmines. Their tributes, Aderyn Isis and Coleman Rites, appeared to be around the same age, and stood silently next to their escort and drunken mentor. While they looked to be older, they were small and skinny, definitely underfed.

When the last clips of District twelve disappeared, Courtney shushed the rest of us for a third time as Ceasar Flickerman appeared on screen. Zane, unable to stand her screeching excitement a moment longer, stole the remote from her and turned the television off.

"Now. How do we win?"


	6. Questions

"I'm sorry, Zane. I don't know about you, but I enjoy watching the program. We can discuss strategy during dinner." Courtney makes a move to grab the remote from him, and Zane sits back, practically leaning on me.

"No. I want to know how to survive. I volunteered for this and I want to at least have some confidence that I'll come out alive." There we go, he mentioned his volunteering. I sat with my breath held, not only because of what he said, but because I was afraid if I blew out, he'd smell my lunch on my breath. He was still practically leaning against me, holding the remote just out of Courtney's reach. I squeezed my legs tighter and leaned with him against the pillows on my end of the couch. Zane didn't even seem to notice what he was doing. He was just determined to talk about this with all of us.

"You know, Courtney, it would probably be a good idea for all of us to talk about survival as much as possible. Prepare them for what is to come and discuss each tribute," Beetee says this quietly, pushing his crooked glasses up his nose. Wiress nods quietly, still tinkering with her small toy.

"Hmph. I guess you could be right." Courtney sits back and crosses her glittering arms over her chest. Zane smirks and sits back against the couch, and I'm able to relax. Wiress and I are the only two who haven't spoken.

Beetee clears his throat. "Well the first thing I want to tell you two before you ask any questions is, be smart. Don't forget your intelligence when you're in the arena, it could be your greatest weapon."

Immediately I decide to trust Beetee. I don't know what it is about him, but he sounds like he knows what he's talking about.

He's about to say something else when Courtney interrupts him. "BUT. Beetee. You forget that the first few days are all about appearance. We should be arriving at the station tomorrow morning. The five of us will go to our apartment on the third floor where the tributes stay, where you will meet your crew of stylists. The chariot ride is that night which is the first time the public will see you in person, and it's the most important appearance because of first impressions. Then the next night you'll have your interview with Ceasar Flickerman. During the days you will be in the training center. You have two days to train before you face the Gamemakers and they give you your score. Which of course is vital to your survival in the Capitol and whether or not you survive. Then, the Games begin." Courtney seemed satisfied with her answer, and Zane rolled his eyes at her pleasure.

"I'm sorry Courtney, but I don't think that is _that_ important—"

"Actually Zane, I'm sorry to interrupt you, but Courtney is right. With the Capitol, appearance is everything. It's how you gain sponsors, which makes it easier to survive in the Games. You gain support from the public, and you'll be less likely to die."

Zane shut his mouth, trusting Beetee's word more than Courtney's.

"Now if you have nothing more to say that I may have some interest in, I am going to go to my room and freshen up for dinner." Courtney gets up and shuffles out of the room, expertly balancing against the turns and bumps in the train.

"I think it would be best if we all got some rest before dinner, so we'll have enough energy to argue with that," Beetee says while glancing at the door Courtney just disappeared through. I smile to myself and Zane snorts loudly, looking at his lap. Beetee and Wiress both stand up, and Beetee says, "We'll see you two at dinner. We'll talk about more actual survival skills then. I'm sure the whole time you're with us, Courtney will be talking your ears off about the etiquette of appearance." Wiress waves goodbye, and the two disappear through the door.

It suddenly dawns on me that I'm alone with Zane again. He sighs and closes his eyes once more, running his fingers through his long, dark hair.

"You don't have to stay with me, Ebony. We're enemies now."

I nearly jump when he speaks. "No, no, I want to stay."

"You don't have to do me any favors, you know that right?" He sits up and looks at me. His eyes look right through me as he speaks. I feel as though he knows all of my secrets. "Just because I saved your brother doesn't mean you 'owe me' or have to be nice to me."

He brought up saving my brother again. I didn't know what to say, or how to further the conversation other than to say, "Thank you, for that. For saving him I mean. I don't know what my parents would have done if they, uh, lost more than two kids." I stare at my hands wrapped around my legs. I can feel his eyes on me.

"Don't talk like that. If either of us have a chance at winning, it will be you." He sits back, realizing that he may have said too much about some unknown secret he wasn't supposed to know about.

"Uhm, Zane? Can I, uh, ask you something?"

I shift my gaze over to look at his hands. They're larger than mine, and callused. The only work I can think of that would have that callused of hands would be an engineer, but since he's still eligible for the games he cannot have an actual profession just yet. But he has the hands. The hands of a worker.

I can feel his eyes on me once more and I manage to croak out, "Why did you save my brother?"

He sighs and chuckles to himself. "I knew this question was going to come up at some point." I continue staring at his hands. He doesn't speak for a long time, and I can't see his face in my peripheral vision.

"Don't worry about why I did it, Ebony. It was just heartless what they were going to make you do. I just volunteered because I did." I look up and find him watching me. I blush slightly and he laughs. "You seem to be doing that a lot." That makes me blush even more. "Come on. We should get some rest before dinner." Zane stands and stretches while I uncurl out of my tight ball. He extends his hand to help me off the couch, and cautiously I take it. I'm not sure what to think of what Zane said. I'm completely lost and want nothing more than to understand why he would risk his life, or what the comment about being able to win was.

He leads me to the door, still holding my hand, and walks me to my cabin. He waits outside until I shut the door behind me, still questioning everything that had happened.


	7. Survival

I wake up screaming into my pillow. I feel a hand on my back and figure that it's my mother trying to comfort me after my nightmare, but when I begin to look around, I see I'm not in my room and it all comes rushing back to me. It wasn't a dream; I was really reaped into the Hunger Games. And then I remember the hand on my back. My first thought is that it could be Zane and I jump up out of the small bed dragging my sheets with me. The blankets cover my body, and I look up to see Wiress standing near the window. The sun is slowly setting outside, and I can barely see her expression. Fumbling for the lights, I can tell she's slightly frightened by my reaction.

"Oh, Wiress," I say flipping on the lights. "I, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was you. I thought you were, uh, someone else…" I instantly blush; realizing that in some part of my head I had hoped it was Zane coming to comfort me.

She nods quietly and smiles at my pink cheeks. "Yes, he is quite the charmer."

I stand shocked that she has spoken. Her voice is quiet, barely audible. She speaks as if she is a shy child.

"I'm sorry?" I move my arms down, letting the sheets fall slightly out of my grasp, a little more comfortable around this still strange woman. This is the first I've heard her speak since we got on the train.

Wiress points her thumb to the wall, indicating the next room over where Zane is sleeping. I blush and lift the sheets to my face and shake my head, almost ashamed that she was able to read my thoughts so perfectly.

"I'm, I'm sorry, I didn't know I was, uh, that obvious…" I shuffle towards the bed and drop the sheet, lacing up the boots I was wearing earlier. I don't look at her face, knowing that she'd see that the color in my cheeks hadn't faded.

"Oh, you're not," she practically whispers. I look at her face, not understanding how she could have known if it wasn't obvious. She smiles quietly to herself and says, "I can just see why someone would enjoy his presence. He's sweet."

I smile at Wiress and nod. She clumsily takes my hand and squeezes it, silently telling me she'll keep my secret, whatever it may be. I don't bother asking why she had come into my room in the first place, I'm just glad she was here.

She points to the door and I take the hint that we should get going to dinner, before Courtney attacks us for being late. My stomach is still slightly bloated from lunch, but the thought of facing all of that delicious food again was making my mouth water. Wiress chuckles and slides out the door, disappearing by the time I finish getting the boots on and entering the long hallway.

As I get closer to the living area door, I can hear Courtney's ridiculous accent blabbing on about the importance of appearance. I giggle quietly to myself as I picture Zane's face scrunched up in a sneer of disgust, his arms crossed as Courtney nags him about mascara and colorful clothing. I slink in slowly and spot Beetee and Wiress right away, sitting on the same couch as they were earlier. Zane is sitting at his place at the dining room table, a full plate a food sitting in front of him. His eyes are closed and no one but our mentors notice me sit down. Courtney is pacing in her tall heels across the room with her back turned to the table. She stumbles and I have to try hard not to laugh too loudly, and end up snorting instead. I instantly blush and see Wiress giggle into her hand behind Beetee. I hide my reddening face when I see Zane snicker out of the corner of my eye. His eyes are still closed, but he grins slightly, making my stomach do summersaults. I turn to look at him just as he opens his eyes and glances at me. The second our eyes lock we break out into insane laughter. Wiress is next, giggling silently against Beetee, who breaks out into a quiet laughter watching Zane and I fall over each other. Courtney whips around and glares at the two of us practically falling out of our chairs.

"What in Panem's name are you two snickering about?" she shrills at us. Zane practically falls backwards out of his chair, which makes me begin to snort, causing everyone's laughter to intensify. Courtney however, was not amused. "Ebony, young ladies do not _snort_ when they laugh. And Zane, young men are supposed to sit up straight and keep all four legs of the chair on the floor at all times. I seriously do not think you two are going to survive very long without proper etiquette!"

"Proper _etiquette_!" Zane mimics and he and I, plus our mentors, double over with laughter. Courtney gets even more frustrated with us, and nearly falls over trying to confront Beetee who has fallen over onto the arm of the couch. Out of the corner of my eye I see a small, redheaded avox smile with her eyes at our antics, and I find myself wishing that she could join us. She looked about my age, far too young to be a traitor of Panem.

Slowly, I calm down and stop watching the young girl. Zane wipes the corners of his eyes while the rest of us slowly sit up straight once more and chuckle to ourselves. Courtney remains unamused as she shuffles towards her seat on the opposite couch.

"If you two are quite finished mocking me and giggling like children, I think we should discuss survival, since you were so keen on interrupting my program earlier to talk about it."

Courtney sits on the couch, snapping at the redheaded avox. The girl comes bustling over presenting her dish to Courtney, who after getting one whiff of the platter, brushes the girl away again. "So, Beetee. What do you have to tell our _champions_?"

The emphasis on "champions" is sour. She doesn't look at anyone as she says it either, just picks up a magazine with an overly made-up Capitol woman on the cover and begins reading. Or at least, I hope she's actually reading it instead of just flipping through the disgustingly colorful pages.

"Would you two care to join us over here with your food so we can discuss this?" He pushes his glasses up his nose and squirms in his seat to get more comfortable. Wiress tucks her legs under her to make more room for him and watches silently.

"Yeah, sure," Zane says, standing up with a small plate of food. His stack is small for dinner, only a small plate of chicken and potatoes. He shakes his head politely no at an avox that offers him a dish of soup and sits back in his spot on the couch. He looks up at me expectantly, motioning with his head that I should sit down too. I grab a sliced up apple, some cheese, and District three bread and settle down next to Zane on the couch. The second I become comfortable next to him, his body relaxes and he begins talking to Beetee between bites of food.

"Like I said earlier at lunch, be smart," Beetee begins. "Don't count yourself out of the games if you see others in the training arena who are stronger or faster than you are. Some, like those in Districts one and two, may have been training their entire lives for this moment, but I know for a fact they don't exercise their brains like you two have." He smiles at his little speech. His confidence in us seems to be growing as well. He speaks sitting up straight with a glint of hope in his eyes when he directs us.

"Before I continue, I want to hear every strength you each think you posses. The more we know about you, the better we can equip you in the Games when sponsors come knocking. Ebony, why don't you begin?" Zane watches me carefully, as do Beetee and Wiress. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Courtney peeking over her magazine behind Zane's shoulder. All eyes are on me as I stutter out, "I-I don't think I have a uh, any strengths." My voice drops off slowly as I sink into the couch.

"Bullshit." I open my eyes wide as Zane turns to me and repeats, "bullshit. I know you have strengths. Chris would gush about you all the time, how you are absolutely brilliant with your hands and can improve so easily on old technology without adding anything to it."

The second he mentions my brother's name I remember where I knew him. They _did_ work in the factories together, and often I'd look out my window watching him and Chris outside of our building. Chris never talked about him though. He'd mention him, but not by name and I didn't know anything about his personal life. Other than where he worked and how he knew my brother, Zane was a complete mystery to me.

"Ebony, is this true?" Beetee looks at me encouragingly, to build upon what Zane had said.

"Of course it's true! She's brilliant, incredibly intelligent. I don't know much about her physical strength, but I know her mind is as amazing as it can be." I burn a brighter red with every word, and Beetee smiles, nodding his head.

"Good, good. That's one thing you really have to rely on. It's how I survived, and it's how Wiress survived, and it's how you two will survive."

"But Beetee, only one of them can survive." Of course, Courtney would be the one to state the obvious. She plants both feet on the floor and stares ahead at Beetee. Her voice is almost mocking, but maybe that's just the Capitol accent twisting her words.

"Yes, Courtney. We are all aware that only one of them can win. But right now, until otherwise specified, they are a team. Until they let us know that they'd like to begin to train separately, we well all work together."

Courtney pulls her magazine back over her face, shutting us out once more.

"Zane, what about you? Do you have any talents?"

Before he can even answer Beetee, I blurt out, "He's strong." Everyone looks at me, shocked that I've even spoken without being asked a question first. "He, he works in the factory with my brother. My brother would come home and lift my younger brother over his head, and me too. Sometimes both of us at once. In his area of the factory there was a lot of heavy lifting, mostly boxes of gears." I trail off there, not exactly sure where this stream of information was coming from. Everyone in the room was still looking at me, including Courtney who had lowered her magazine at the sound of my voice.

Zane was the quickest to gain his composure again. "She's right. At the factory, the younger workers do most of the heavy lifting. We can lift and throw pretty far, depending on what it is we're holding. But I don't know how that would be able to help me."

"If you can throw something that heavy you can throw a spear. You can throw a knife, you can fight. You have a chance of survival against the careers."

"And don't forget the sponsers." Courtney chimes in. We all look at our personal ray of sunshine. "Well you cannot! They're just as important."

"Being well-liked, yes that is important. But your strengths are as well. I think we had better let our tributes rest for now. We should be arriving at the Capitol in the morning."

Beetee stands and Wiress follows, cutting Courtney off before she could argue and lecture about manners.

"We will see you all in the morning then. Goodnight." The two leave silently, Wiress following closely behind Beetee practically walking on top of his heels.

"Well, I guess that just leaves the three of us. Now I don't know about you, but I'd like to turn on the television and watch Ceasar Flickerman. Would you two care to join me for this riveting program?"

Zane and I share a glance, and he helps me up off the couch. "No, Courtney, I think we'll head off to bed as well. Long day tomorrow." I follow him out of the room, much like Wiress had followed Beetee, and he leads us to where the rooms are. He pauses only for a second outside of my door and tells me he'll see me in the morning before sauntering down the long hall to his room. I watch him walk, and he turns around and waves once before disappearing inside his room.

I don't know why, but I continue standing out in the hallway watching where Zane used to stand, almost hoping he'd reappear. I watched the woods passing in the window opposite my door and tried not to think about the days to come. Every tree we passed brought us closer and closer to the Capitol, and closer to the Games themselves.


	8. Trust

Surprisingly, I slept soundly that night and woke up to light streaming in through my windows. Everything is quiet, and the trees outside begin to look as though they were beginning to thin out. I slide out of bed watching the trees as we travel. Each one is a green blur with occasionally spots of blue as they begin to thin out.

We will soon be at the Capitol, and my head starts to hurt just by thinking about being around more people like Courtney and being turned into one. Their lifestyle is still a mystery to me, how they could just not care about the tributes' lives and willingly bet against children they don't even know. Collapsing back on the bed, I hold my head in my hands and try to stop thinking about the inevitable. Everything seemed to be moving so quickly, and it wasn't just because we were on a train that was going 200 miles per hour. We'd be arriving at the Capitol in a few hours, and from there we're being transported straight to our stylists and the parade. Then two days of training, the evaluation, interviews, and finally, the Games. Only three and a half days separate Zane and I from the bloodbath at the Cornucopia that will be broadcasted to the entire country of Panem. My family will watch me die on television and there's nothing I can do about it except fight as hard as I can. I can't let Dean watch me die. I can't put my family through that again.

With new motivation I lace up the boots and exit my temporary bedroom to get some breakfast. Surprisingly, Courtney isn't in the large compartment yet. Without her there, the scene looks much more relaxed. Wiress is sitting on one of the couches, for once without Beetee. He and Zane are sitting across from each other at the dining table chatting quietly over eggs.

Beetee spots me first. "Good morning, Ebony! I am surprised to see you up so late. Zane and I were just wondering if we should go into your room and see if you cared to join us."

"I'm a bit surprised too, I'm usually an early riser." I stand in the doorway hugging myself as the two watched me.

Beetee glances at his watch and announces, "Well, apparently seven-thirty is too early for your mentor." He chuckles to himself. "Come join us, get some breakfast. You'll need the energy."

My stomach grumbles slightly and I nod my thanks and sit in my spot next to Zane. The redheaded avox offers to pour me coffee and I whisper thanks and smile. She gives me a small smile and it's gone before I can even register that it was really there. Before I even realize it she's back in her place against the wall, expressionless. I dig into my breakfast, the eggs made to perfection and the coffee wakes me up almost immediately.

"Ebony? Ebony did you hear me?" I snap out of my trance and look up at Beetee who has a small smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

He and Zane share a laugh. "The food is much better than at the district, isn't it?" Zane takes a bite and looks at me.

I nod and lift my coffee cup. "The coffee is much more satisfying, yes." He smiles at me and nods as well, digging back into his eggs.

"Ebony, I asked before if you were ok. And I mean ok in the sense of if you have come to terms with the fact that you are indeed in the Games."

I look up at Beetee, finally understanding why I liked him and Wiress as much as I do. They really do care about our well being, unlike those that live in the Capitol. They have faith in us. Finally, I smile slightly and tell him, "I am. And I'm going to try my hardest to win."

"That's what we like to hear, Ebony. That's what we like to hear." He smiles at the two of us, his eyes shining bright. "Maybe this year they'll have a Game to remember."

"Well I most certainly hope so. Ceasar Flickerman does not lie." Courtney struts in wearing another outfit that resembles the sun. I don't know if it just because the rest of us are from the palest district that makes her feel the need to project sunlight everywhere she goes, but I thought I was beginning to burn just from looking at her outfits. Beetee has to look away, and Zane mockingly shields his eyes.

"That's a nice outfit you've got on today, Courtney. Very bright."

"Manners, Mr. Crutch." She sits herself down at the head of the table and snaps for coffee. The redheaded avox hurries over and pours it quickly, trying to get as far away from her as humanly possible as quickly as she can. Without any thanks, she snaps again to dismiss her and call another avox who brings her a newspaper from the Capitol.

"The snapping thing is really rude, Courtney. They are people you know." Zane stares at Courtney as she sips lightly at her coffee.

"They may be people, but they are traitors of Panem and should be treated as such. Now I suggest you eat up, we should be arriving soon."

Before Zane could argue with her any longer, Beetee just shakes his head and stops him. He mouths, "it's no use" and continues to eat, occasionally glancing back at Wiress who has tightened up at the presence of Courtney.

The five of us end up sitting in silence with Zane tensed up next to me, dying to argue with Courtney about how pretentious and naïve she really is. I look back at the redheaded avox and wished she would do something, but I know that it is not their place, and so does she. Her tongue was cut out for being a traitor of Panem, and if she tried anything else President Snow would have her executed in a heartbeat.

"Oh and before I forget," Courtney says, addressing Zane and I once more. "Your stylists' teams will be waiting for you once we exit the train. I'm sure you've seen previous years the remarkable transformation that takes place from when the tributes are reaped and during the tribute parade. It's simply magical." She smiles widely and it takes all of the strength in my body not to grimace at her enthusiasm. Zane, however, does not hide anything.

"I wouldn't exactly call it magical. The tributes are barely recognizable."

"That is the point, Zane. Those living in the Capitol want to see your inner beauty. Not the grime covered outer skin that is seen during the reaping."

Everyone in the room knows Courtney and Zane will never see eye to eye, but he is determined to make her understand his point regardless.

"I just don't get you Capitol people. All you want is a good show. You bet for those that are beautiful and strong, not the tribute you think should win. Those that should win are left in the dust to die because no one plays by the rules!"

"Zane I think it'd be best if you relaxed before you say something you'll regret." Beetee is watching him expectantly, hoping he'll take his advice and calm down.

Eventually he stops fuming and takes some deep breaths, Courtney looking satisfied with her unofficial triumph.

Before anyone can say another word though, Wiress speaks for the first time in the large group. "We're here."

Zane and I slowly stand and walk towards the window, watching the Capitol get closer and closer towards us. Tall, sparkling buildings stand surrounding a lake. There is a small island in the middle with a large building taking up the entire piece of land that has a bridge that leads to the mainland. As we circle the lake, we can see the center of the Games dead center of the city.

"It's so huge…" I whisper to Zane watching everything fly by. We close in on the center speeding above the Capitol citizens wandering below. I can see the train station coming closer, the building where the parade will most likely be held right down the middle, the train station to the right, and a tall building with thirteen floors attached to it.

Before we know it, Zane and I are staring into the faces of screaming Capitol citizens, their colorful hair and outfits creating rainbow of a crowd around us. Unsure of what to do, I wave, in awe over everything about the city. Zane takes my hand and waves with his other. I'm sure I blush brighter than I ever have as the crowd goes nuts over us.

We are District Three, the ones everyone usually overlooks, and today we're making our first impression. I can hear Courtney clapping in the background, practically screaming, "That is how it is done!" And before I know it, the people are gone and we're in a dark tunnel on our way to the Games.


	9. Preparations

Zane and I are still holding hands at the window when the tunnel ends and I reluctantly pull my hand away from his.

"That was brilliant, my dears! Oh, they will absolutely love that! You two, a team, holding hands, oh they'll be talking about this all throughout the Games!" Courtney babbles on while I try to get rid of the burn on my face. Zane stands absolutely still at the window looking into the poorly lit station. The train has definitely stopped, but the lights have yet to turn on in the large room, and no one seems to be in any hurry to leave the train.

"The stylists should be here soon to whisk you two away, so get comfortable for now." Wiress looks over and motions for me to sit next to her. I look up at Zane who is still staring into the darkness, and hesitate before curling up next to her. She takes my hand and squeezes it once in an encouraging way. "You'll be ok," she whispers. "Everything will be." I swallow loudly, suddenly nervous about what exactly was to come. I had no idea what my stylists will look like, or be like for that matter. You never saw them, barely ever heard their names. We only knew what they created.

"Oh Ebony, Zane, come meet your teams!" Courtney practically sings as she hobbles towards us. "Let's go, let's go, we can't keep them waiting, now can we?"

Zane mutters something under his breath as she practically drags us off of the train into the now bright station. Everything about it is clean, and the extremely large room is practically empty, save for the few trains parked at the end of the tunnel. Each had a number on it, that I could only assume was for each of the districts.

"Ebony, you follow Crystal down that hall, and Zane, you follow Bright down the other. Now hurry, there is much work to be done!"

I turn to who Courtney motions to and see a small woman who couldn't be much older than me, dressed in an almost completely see through, shiny dress that glints when the light hit it. I turn away politely, and she grabs my wrist and pulls me after her down a narrow hall with a three on the door. "Don't be shy, dear. I'm not ashamed!" Crystal laughs and I can hear the twinkling sound of her voice echoing back towards Courtney. Her clear wedges make a clunking sound as I'm dragged towards a large room set up much like a hospital. There's a bed with a robe sitting on top of it, and a large bath in the center. A large cabinet rests against one wall and there are two doors other than the one Crystal led me through.

"Alright, love. Strip down and let us see what we have to work with."

"We?" As soon as it comes out of my mouth, two more Capitol stylists come through the door directly ahead. The male is dressed in all royal blue and is carrying a large bag that seems to be bulging in every direction. The girl is his exact opposite, in all orange, and seems to radiate light, much like Courtney did.

"Ebony, this is Ray and Roy. We are your stylist, Sionn's, assistants. You'll see him after we deem you ready. Now strip."

The three watch me stand there, unsure of whether or not I should listen to them. As if she read my mind, Crystal bluntly states, "You can either take your own hideous clothes off, or we will."

Instead of having to endure the humiliation of having three strangers undress me, I quickly started taking my clothes off while they prepared themselves.

"When you're done undressing, get in the bathtub, sweetie." I do as Crystal says and sit in the empty tub, wrapping my arms around my knees. The three assistants bustle around the room, setting up various objects, half of which I didn't even recognize. Roy turns his head and sees me sitting in the bath, and comes over to press a button on some complicated looking remote. The second he turns his back on me, scalding water descends from the ceiling onto me. I jump up and yelp as the hot water hit my skin and Crystal shuffles over in her see through dress and turns the temperature down. In seconds I was soaked, head to toe in hot water, and my skin was a bright red.

"Sit." Crystal motions for me to sit in the now full tub of water. I do as I'm told and Ray runs over and starts rubbing my head with shampoo as Crystal scrubs my body. Roy prepares something over on the bed that I can't see.

My skin is rubbed raw with soap and warm water, and when I'm finally rinsed off, my hair smells of roses and is shining. I'm wrapped in a towel and led over to the bed where Roy pushes me back to lie down and grabs one of my legs. He lathers something warm on my leg and lays down a piece of paper. Before I can ask what it is, he rips it off, taking all of the hair off of my leg. I yell loudly and bite my lip, pulling my legs up towards my chest.

Crystal comes running over. "Worse things are going to happen to you in the Games, Ebony. This needs to be done for the parade and before the interview so give us your legs back and we'll get this done quickly, once and for all."

"There's no way in hell you're getting my leg back. It's practically torture!" I hug my knees tightly and stare the three overly made up stylists down, determined to get my way with this.

"Ebony your legs, upper lip, and eyebrows desperately need a waxing. You are going to die in those Games if you do not cooperate with us." Crystal watches me calmly and my gaze for the three softens. I think back to what we talked about on the train and know that Crystal is right, I won't make it two days in the Games if I'm not Capitol-beautiful.

I sigh and lie back down on the bed, letting Roy tear the hair off of my legs with minimal screeching. When all the hair was gone, he lathered a cooling lotion on my legs that took the sting away in an instant. My lip and eyebrows were also done, and I was thrown into the bath one last time to be rinsed off. Ray cleaned the grime off of my nails, Crystal dried my hair, and when they showed me my appearance in a full-length mirror, I was shocked at what I saw. My entire body seemed to shine under the lamps, and my long hair flowed delicately straight down my back. Everything about me seemed new.

Crystal comes up behind me and rests her hands on my shoulders. "Come on, it's time for you to see Sionn." She takes my hand gently and leads me through the door Roy and Ray came in hours earlier. The next room is smaller than the first, with only one door, a table and two couches, and a large closet space with only one thing hanging inside it. "He'll be back in a moment. Make yourself comfortable." I nod my thanks and Crystal disappears in the way we came.

I wrap my towel tighter around my body, nervous as to what Sionn would think of me. A large mirror takes up almost an entire wall, and I stare at myself from the couch. I'm still not used to my now flawless skin and smooth legs. Everything about my body seems as though it belongs to a stranger. I feel my legs and rub my hands together, surprised that Ray was able to get all of the calluses off of my fingers.

"It's remarkable, isn't it?" I whip my head towards the door and see a tall, dark haired man walk into the room. He shuts the door behind him and introduces himself. "Hello, Ebony. I'm Sionn. I was talking about the transformation. Remarkable, right? How much about a person can change in a few short hours."

"Hello, y-yes, it is…" I stare at him, trying to grasp why he doesn't look like everyone else in the Capitol. His hair is black and short, and his skin has no colorful tint to it. His clothes are simple and fit his form well, and the only makeup on his face is lightly around his eyes. His nose has a small stud, and he is wearing at least six rings between his hands. Everything about him seems much more normal than everything I've seen.

"I don't like the hype of the Capitol fashion. I'd rather be comfortable than keep up with the fads. Would you like some lunch? You must be hungry."

As if she heard him, the redheaded avox appears in the doorway with two plates and leaves them on the table in the middle of the room before disappearing once more. He grabs two champagne glasses and fills them with water from a bottle in a fridge hidden next to one of the couches.

"Relax, we have some time. Crystal was done with you so quickly, I was surprised when I was told you were waiting for me already. Zane is still in the preparation room, they won't let him anywhere near Adrianne." Without thinking, I smile into my lap. "No need to hide your smile, it's very lovely. And I found it somewhat comical as well, he made them switch shampoos after they washed his hair with the rose scented one."

I blush when he compliments me and smile again. Sionn digs into his lunch of sushi and watches me carefully as I eat. I have never had anything like sushi before, but then again, I hadn't eaten much of what the Capitol has been feeding me.

"Do you have any questions about anything about the Games?"

I put down my sushi and mull over the question for a few seconds. "What exactly are you here to do?"

Sionn looks at me and states plain and simple, "I'm here to help you make an impression. I am here to help you look your best for those in the Capitol so they feel sympathy towards you when you are suffering. While they might not look like they do, the people of the Capitol are able to feel compassion. But they only do so for their favorites. I am here to make you a favorite."

I think about what he said, and my new appearance. "Do you think I'll be able to do that now?"

He smiles and nods. "Well, with a little help from your mentors and myself, yes. I believe you and Zane will make a wondrous impression. Especially after you two were holding hands on the train."

My cheeks instantly burn as I sputter out, "How did you know about that?"

Sionn chuckles, "You blush quite easily, you may be able to use that. During the Games, there are cameras following you everywhere." My face must have looked frightened, because he quickly amends his previous statement with, "But, they are not allowed are your own personal suites, the training room, and when you're with me. Those sessions stay private from publics eyes." Instantly I relax and continue eating feeling suddenly famished. "Now, let's discuss your outfit for this evening."


	10. The Tribute Parade

I don't see Zane again until Sionn is helping me into my outfit for the parade. I haven't even seen it yet, I'm only dressed in white underwear and a matching bra when he storms into my room.

"Do you see what they have us wearing? Have you seen the outfit's they've prepared?"

When I hear his voice I instantly cover myself with a pillow from one of the couches.

"We haven't gotten that far yet, Zane. I've only just finished her hair and makeup. Please, take a seat and let Adrianne finish getting you ready." Sionn is extremely calm, not even looking Zane's way as he addresses him.

"Ebony I won't wear it. We're going to look like idiots in front of everyone in Panem." Zane turns to face me and for the first time I see him blush when he sees that I am not fully dressed. "Oh, shit, Eb… I-fuck…" He averts his gaze and looks at his bare feet, trying not to look at where the pillow is clutched to my body.

"Zane, if you'd follow me back to Adrianne, we'd like to get the two of you ready before the parade is meant to begin. And I promise you, if you think you're going to look ridiculous, wait until you see the other districts."

Zane nods and follows Sionn through the door after whispering a hurried apology. I'm left alone in the room and relax onto the couch once the door is shut. I'm not exactly sure what to think, we know the outfits have always been silly, but if Zane is upset over them, who is to say they're not crazier than normal?

I slowly walk over to where Sionn has been hiding my outfit and unzip the sleeve it's hidden in as Sionn walks back into the room. He smiles when he catches me and helps take my dress out of it's cover.

I gasp when I see it. The dress Sionn has designed for me is a light grey and has gears in a cluster from the bust to the end of the skirt in a graceful line. It is strapless, and the skirt billows out and stops just above my knees.

"Here, I'll help you dress." Sionn slips it over my head and adjusts it into place, zipping the back. The dress fits perfectly, not sliding down, and not constricting me either. It's practically weightless. "You look beautiful. Now, just the last touch on your hair and your shoes." He wraps a small silver ribbon around the bun in my hair and adjusts the strands he left in my face. I pull my token out of my dress and let it fall over the edge where it would be visible. A piece of the district to keep it alive.

Sionn turns back to me and instructs me to sit carefully and he slips on high silver heels that make me at least four inches taller.

"Sionn, I don't think I can walk in these." I stare down at the sparkling shoes and click them against the floor.

"Well you won't be walking very much in them. Just to the carriages and then back to your suite afterwards. Now let's quickly practice so you don't fall on your face." He reaches out his hand and helps me up off of the couch. I'm a bit wobbly as I balance, but manage to take a few steps with Sionn's guidance. "See, you're not so bad. Twirl a bit, let us see how the dress flows." He let's go of my hand and allows me to spin slowly. The dress flows outward a bit, and I somehow keep from falling as I twirl and walk, giggling a bit as I do so.

Sionn smiles and asks me to sit. "Now, I'm sure Zane wasn't freaking out about what the outfits looked like, so much as what they do." I look at him, slightly confused. It was an outfit. What more could it do? Sionn notices my confusion and says, "When the carriages begin to move, so will the gears. Don't worry, they're completely harmless and won't do anything to you. They'll just begin to rotate, like you are a moving part of the technology you create."

I stare down at the dress, shocked that something so weightless could hold that sort of technology. When I stood again, I felt the gears. They were cold and hard like the one around my neck.

"Incredible, isn't it? Come let's practice walking a bit and then go find Zane and the other tributes. I expect everyone will be arriving there soon."

Sionn helps me up from the couch once again, and directs me to walk around the room once before he opens the door for me and we head out towards the carriages. Zane is already there standing next to a woman in periwinkle from head to toe. She's holding a light grey top hat with gears along the side that I assumed Zane was supposed to be wearing. He wore a simple white button down shirt with a light grey vest over it that was covered in gears, and a simple black tie and pants. There were a few gears down his right pant leg, and one more dangling out of a pocket of the vest. Once the woman who I could only assume was Adrianne convinced him to wear the hat, he places it on top of his head, and it rests neatly over his hair, exposing his bangs that hang just above his eyes. He looked incredibly well dressed for someone who was dressed by a Capitol citizen.

Sionn takes my arm and helps me walk over towards the two of them and our carriage. Zane spots us over Adrianne's shoulder and his mouth gapes open.

"You look, you—wow…" He stares at the gears on my dress for a moment before moving his eyes to my red face.

"Thank you," I managed to squeak out. "You look wow as well." He laughs at my comment and moves to stand next to me so Adrianne and Sionn could speak to us before we could prepare ourselves on the carriage behind the black horses that will lead us.

"When the carriages begin to move, as you know, so will the gears. Don't be too surprised when they do, and try to keep your composure. There are one hundred thousand people in the stadium tonight watching you, but all you need to do is wave. Don't worry about some not seeing the gears. There are screens everywhere projecting the tributes. After it ends, the horses will bring you back to the ground floor of the hotel. We'll be waiting for you there with Beetee, Wiress, and Courtney. Are there any questions before we leave you?"

Zane and I each shake our head no, and our respective stylists give us a hug before they walk away, chatting animatedly.

"You really do look beautiful, Ebony. The entire dress flatters you immensely. I'm sure the boys back home will be praying they will see you again."

I blush at Zane's comment, and mentally yell at myself for doing it so often around him. "Thank you, but I doubt that. The girls though will be falling over themselves for you, though."

He chuckles under his breath. "No, probably not. But you definitely have some fans here. The District One boy, Troy I think his name is, has been making eyes at you."

I turn my gaze to the District One carriage where the two tributes are getting one last check up on their outfits. Troy is dressed in golden armor that looks like it came straight from a fantasy world. It's plated in the front, and his entire back is open exposing his muscles. The girl from One, Cashmere, is dressed similarly in a Roman Goddess getup. They each wear crowns made of thorns on their heads. Troy occasionally looks up from his stylist to stare at Zane and I, and he grins cockily in our direction.

Unsure of how I should react, I look towards the District Two tributes, Jenna and Damien. The two are dressed in silver Peacekeeper uniforms that fit their figures perfectly. Jenna holds a small shield in her hand and Damien has a mock Peacekeeper weapon on his belt loop. The two stand confidently with their arms crossed watching everyone else.

When Jenna spots me watching, she sneers and I turn my attention to District Four. Gareth, while not the youngest, looks as if he was too old to be participating. His tall build and powerful arms make me peg him as a strong swimmer, as many are in District Four. He wears only green shorts with fish netting draped around him. Sabrina has on a long sea green skirt that touches the floor and a blue top that could pass as a strapless bra. Her bronze hair flows down her back making her look more like a mermaid than anything. Finnick stands with them, giving last minute advice it seemed, and checking out the other tributes.

Keegan and Emmet from District Five look like electric charges. Keegan's dress is much like mine, except it is a navy blue and has little lightning bolts decorating it all the way down to the edges of the skirt, and her hair sticking slightly out. Emmet's hair was styled to stick out on all ends and his suit matched Keegan's dress perfectly. They're preoccupied watching the other tributes, as many of us are.

The tributes from District six, Keely and Lex, are dressed as train conductors, and Oakley and Elwood from Seven appear to be dressed like spring trees. The two districts are so different, but the four are standing in a small cluster chatting casually, even laughing a little.

Zane elbows me lightly and indirectly points over to District Eight's tributes, Tai and Kyden. They're dressed to look just like Capitol citizens with colorful wigs and bright colored clothes. Tai matches her escort almost perfectly, except for the fact that instead of looking excited at the thought of wearing a bright pink dress, she looks in the mountain of fabric.

Over by District Nine's carriage, Priella and Bond stand off to the side as their stylist argues with the stylist for District Eleven. Maelie and Hamlet stand awkwardly off to the side as they stare down Priella and Bond's golden outfits that look too similar to their farmer outfits. Winnie and Spencer of District Ten snicker at the quarrel over by their carriage until Maelie loudly points out that they are dressed to look like old-fashioned cowboys.

Finally I spot District Twelve in their miner outfits all the way in the back of the large room. Aderyn and Coleman are both covered from head to toe with black soot to make their appearance look more realistic.

Suddenly, Zane tugs on the side of my dress and leans down to whisper in my ear, "Sionn was right. After seeing everyone else's outfits, I feel slightly less ridiculous."

I laugh quietly and nod. "At least we look somewhat classy. Some of the districts look like they're about to attend a costume party."

Zane snickers loudly, attracting a few of the surrounding carriages to briefly watch us. The attention is soon lost when the stylist from Eleven makes a loud huffing noise and begins stomping off towards a door, closely followed by the stylist from Nine who clearly isn't done telling the other off. As soon as they disappear, we tributes realize that all of the other stylists and escorts had disappeared, and it was just the twenty-four of us, alone for the first time. The room instantly becomes silent as we take in one another. Each district's tribute stands proud and close to their companion. We each stand as the teams we came with, almost warning the others that we'd be the one to survive.

The hostile silence is broken by a voice over asking each tribute to please get into their respective carriage, the parade is scheduled to begin in less than five minutes. Zane helps me step into ours, and steadily climbs in himself. He watches me carefully.

"Are you nervous?" I look at him, unsure of how to answer. But he seems to already know what it would be, and takes my hand in his. "We may as well continue the trend, right?" I nod and squeeze his hand, facing forward just as our horses begin to trot forward through the large double doors and into the stadium.

As soon as we're through the doors, we're greeted with a monstrous noise of thunderous clapping and cheering. It's only then that I remember the gears on my dress, and peak down to watch. The gears move seamlessly and steadily along my body, and so do the ones Zane wears. He notices them at the same time, and smiles unbelieving at me that anyone could accomplish that.

I look up and see the two of us projected on screen after screen, my shocked face almost unrecognizable. Instinctively, I begin to wave to the crowd like the carriages before us, and Zane catches the memo and does the same, simultaneously lifting our joint hands into the air above our heads. The Capitol citizens surprisingly get louder as we wave our arms and smile proudly all the way to the end of the long strip where President Snow is waiting for our arrival.

Once all of the Districts are together again, President Snow stands and addresses the crowd. "Welcome, tributes, to the Capitol! And welcome everyone, to the opening of the seventy-first annual Hunger Games! We all look forward to what this years tributes have to offer us, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

The crowd goes wild for his short speech and as soon as it ended, the horses began to move once more into a separate room far away from the commotion of the celebration.


End file.
